


Not So Bad

by buckybabybaby



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (implied lovers... maybe... in the future at least), Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Other, Reader-Insert, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:34:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26330458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckybabybaby/pseuds/buckybabybaby
Summary: Stuck on a beach awaiting pick-up after a mission, you and Bucky have an interesting conversation.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	Not So Bad

**Author's Note:**

> This is my one shot for [firefly-in-darkness](https://firefly-in-darkness.tumblr.com/)' summer challege!

The steady lapping of the waves washing up onto the sand below is the only sound breaking the silence between you and Bucky. Seated at opposite ends of the last bench on the promenade, you are seriously considering typing up your notice the minute you get back home and walking away from The Avengers if this is the way you're going to be treated. Not only have you had to spend the last two weeks acting all lovey-dovey with Bucky for the sake of a mission, but now it's over you're stuck on a beach with him as you wait for a pick up. Because, _apparently_ , a domestic flight back home would be too risky.

A light flickering in the distance catches your attention, and you raise your head to watch as the illuminations strung along the closest pier are extinguished one by one, until only the hazard warning at the very end remains lit, plunging the beach further into darkness.

“That'll be midnight then.”

It shouldn't, but Bucky's voice coming from beside you for the first time in hours makes you jump. Sitting up straighter, you attempt to hide your shock as you ask, “What will be?”

“The lights. The pier closes at midnight. I guess it's just you and me now.”

Looking away, you roll your eyes; this mission hasn't been easy for you, and you've had to hold yourself back from repeating that action many times during the last fortnight. Normally working with world-saving heroes is the dream job, but normally you're not sent out undercover with the formal Winter Soldier, forced to act like a honeymooning couple to infiltrate a people smuggling ring operating out of an exclusive Floridian beach resort. Though it wasn't hard to get people to talk and the mission was a success, you feel little joy in the outcome.

The reason is currently huffing next to you.

“Stop that!”

Bucky looks across at you, raising his eyebrows at your outburst. “Stop what?”

“Breathing so heavily!”

“Oh, you want me to stop breathing?”

“I wouldn't complain.”

“That'll be a first.”

Refusing to rise to the bait, you turn back to staring out to sea. How you survived pretending to be married to this man for fourteen long days, you may never know. Maybe you were an actor in another life, because every time you're alone with him it usually leads to petty squabbling, but you somehow managed to fool multiple people into believing that he was your 'amazing husband' who you were madly in love with.

To be fair to Bucky, he was very good at pretending too. The little glances and touches that made it convincing, the way he memorised your back story perfectly and never slipped up when questioned, how he succeeded to completely hide his disdain for you the whole time, it was all truly impressive. Even in private he didn't drop the act, on the slim chance of being caught out, leaving you flustered and confused.

Hence why you're sitting as far away as possible on this weather beaten bench.

As soon as the all clear had been given that you could go home, you couldn't get out of there fast enough, desperate to sleep in your own bed alone and not share one with the furnace in human form that is Bucky. Apart from the comment about the pier, he's been completely silent as you waited for the rescue boat to arrive, a jarring contrast to earlier in the day as you checked out of the hotel.

You don't like the way you miss his gentle hold and soft words. A fortnight living together has warped your emotions beyond recognition, and the return to normal life is most welcome.

From somewhere deep in the pile of luggage on the beach your phone buzzes twice, and you jump up to grab it, groaning in frustration at the message it contains.

Bucky senses the cause. “Delayed?”

“Hmm.”

“Cool.”

He says it so casually and it's like you snap. It's been ages since the two of you have been alone without the threat of eavesdroppers, all that pent up tension exploding in a mini rant.

“Well it might be cool for you, but excuse me for being annoyed. Not everyone wants to be stuck on a beach in the middle of the night.”

He shrugs, unaffected. “You kept saying you wanted to go to the beach.”

“Yeah, but not at midnight! And certainly not with _you_!”

“Wow, ouch.”

The genuine hurt on his face surprises you. He has always given as good as he gets, never seeming fazed by the verbal abuse you throw his way. “What, Bucky? Don't act like we get along. You hate me!”

If anything, the look of hurt deepens at your words. “Hate? I don't hate you.” He rises to stand with you on the sand. “Y/N? Is that what you think?”

You can't keep eye contact. “Why would I think anything else? We can't spend ten minutes together without arguing.”

“It's just friendly bickering.”

“Friendly?” Scoffing loudly, you walk back up to the bench, flopping down in a slouched position and resigning yourself to the wait. “If that's your idea of friendly I worry about your actual friends.”

Bucky's stood frozen where you left him but you pay him no mind. As the clouds clear above and the stars become visible, the temperature starts to drop. Shivering, you curl into a ball on the seat, too lazy to search through your suitcase for warmer clothes.

“Here.”

Blinking, you're met with Bucky's outstretched hand and the offering of his coat.

“What.” You say flatly.

“So you don't freeze,” He explains, shaking the jacket a little in your face.

You snort at his act of chivalry. “Oh, please. It's okay, the shows over. You don't need to pretend any more, we haven't got an audience here.”

He visibly holds his tongue. “Will you just take it? Stop being so stubborn.”

“Well, what about you? Don't you need it?”

“Super soldier, doll. We tend to run hotter.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” You mutter under your breath, not quietly enough.

“Oh, you did? Must have kept you nice and warm huh?”

The smirk you know so well is back and you fight your smile at the familiar tone in his voice.

“More like sleeping with a damn heater. You're lucky I didn't kick you out every night.”

“As if you could.”

“You know I could.”

He nods in agreement, remembering all the times you've beaten him in combat training. “Suppose you could've. But you _didn't_. That's something.”

Placing the jacket over your shoulder when you sit up, Bucky pulls it round to the front to fasten the top button, allowing you to do the rest yourself as he takes his place back on the bench. You are much closer now as you chose to sit in the middle of the seat, but you stay put as it feels rude to move away when he's been so nice.

The air is once again full of only the sounds of nature. It was true you had wanted to visit the beach during this mission, the long stretches of white sand calling your name from the hotels bedroom window, but you hadn't got the chance as the suspects you were tailing stayed around the bar and pool. As you breathe in the salty air, you decide the pain of the last fortnight was worth it for this moment, even in the middle of the night and without the longed for ice cream.

Glancing over to Bucky's relaxed form, you study his profile. Whilst you've seen it a lot recently, it still shocks you how defined his face is and the way his hair always seems to fall perfectly, no matter the time of day or weather. Even his early morning bed-hair could be classed as a tousled style others would take hours to achieve, and you can't believe you've never noticed how attractive he is. And it's not just his looks, if the way he acted his role is anything to go by. This mission has taught you one thing; who ever Bucky does end up marrying will be the luckiest person in the world.

You think of your previous conversation, still lost. Since your first meeting it's been the same, sharp tongues flinging insults at each other whenever you meet, and the others in the tower have learnt to avoid the two of you when you get going. Does Bucky really think that that's all been in jest?

Eventually, the curiosity gets the better of you. “Do you really not hate me?”

He takes a few seconds to reply, not looking at you as he says quietly, “No, of course not.”

“Okay.” You don't bring up your regular fights as evidence to the contrary, instead asking, “And you actually _enjoy_ my company?”

“Why do you think I volunteered for this?”

“Volun-what?” That really wasn't what you expected when you started on these questions. You stare at him wide-eyed with disbelief, sure you've misunderstood. “I thought we were assigned? I definitely didn't choose to be here.”

“You were assigned. They thought you'd blend in well with the crowds here, they just needed someone to be your husband and... Here we are.”

“Huh.” You blow out a breath, overwhelmed.

“I thought it would be a way to spend time together without the usual spats.”

“That's an extreme way to spend time with someone.”

He sighs. “I know.”

“But why? With me?”

“'Cause you're fun to be with?”

“Are you telling me or asking?”

“Telling. I want to be better, nicer to you, but any time we're together, you get all defensive, and I can't help returning the sentiment.”

“So, it's my fault?”

“That's not-” He cuts himself off, stopping the argument before it can begin. “I'm sorry.”

“No, I'm sorry.” You smile at him for the first time. “You're going to have to give me a while to get used to this. I'm finding it kinda hard to believe you don't actually hate my guts.”

His own smile drops. “I'm so sorry.” Dragging a hand through his hair, he gazes at you intensely. “This is... I honestly had no idea you thought our arguments were serious. I thought-” He swallows, a self conscious grin tugging at his mouth. “Is it awful that I thought we were flirting?”

Your cheeks heat up, but you shake your head to reassure him. Thinking back, you can see why he believed that. There is a fine line between hate and love, and it makes sense now why you sought him out so often, why you gravitated to him even when it would be so easy to avoid contact, and why, if you're being honest with yourself, you didn't despise the last two weeks at all.

“So, where do we go from here?”

“First, we go home.” He gestures to the vessel you hadn't noticed bobbing in the surf, waving at the captain as the speed boat is launched to retrieve you and your belongings. “And then? Whatever you want.”

“Can we start just being proper friends?”

He reaches for your hand to help you up. “I'd like that.”

Stretching, you follow him across the beach in the gloom. Picking up your holdall and rucksack on the way, you dump them into the bottom of the boat and climb in, sitting close together on the narrow bench. The crew shout at each other over the engines roar once you're both safely on the yacht, but you tune them out, choosing to stay on deck and admire the lights along the coast. Bucky joins you after you tire of his hesitation and tug him down into the seat to you.

As the boat starts the journey back north he glances at you through the spray of salt water, the small smile you share feels so much bigger, and your letter of resignation couldn't be further from your mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading xxx  
> [Tumblr](https://buckybabybaby.tumblr.com/), if you want!


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